


Taking a Mental Picture of You Now

by kelleigh (girlfromcarolina)



Series: Salt Burn Porn [4]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Community: salt_burn_porn, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-03
Updated: 2011-10-03
Packaged: 2017-10-24 07:13:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlfromcarolina/pseuds/kelleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a week, Jared and Jensen will be forced to survive a short-to-middle distance relationship. Jared keeps getting lost in nostalgia, but Jensen's pretty sure he can think of better ways to spend their last nights together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking a Mental Picture of You Now

**Author's Note:**

> Both characters are 18+. Written for the fifth round of salt_burn_porn on LJ. Prompt was _campfire stories_.

"Long distance relationships never work. That's a fact, like me getting sick when I eat tomatoes, and you not being able to handle tequila."

Jared argues. _Of course_ he does. "It won't be long distance. More like short-to-middle distance. And it won't be that bad."

Jensen has to point out, "Compared to living on the same street, it's totally long distance."

"Well, yeah," Jared admits, mouth drooping in the way it always has when he doesn't want to admit something. "Still, it's only, like, an hour on the bus, and if my parents let me take my car—"

"Did they say you could?"

"Not yet."

"You need to lock that shit up."

They're laid out beside one another like sardines in a can, no room for Jensen to turn away even if he wanted to. The Ackles' treehouse is almost as old as they are, built for Jensen's older brother amidst the thick and curving branches of the ancient oak tree. The wood has been replaced more than once since it was originally constructed, weathered and splintered planks replaced with solid, fresh timber, but it's been years since any real work was done.

Jared is the reason they're tucked up here tonight. He'd caught nostalgia like a disease, pulling out old photo albums and school projects: historical evidence of Jared and Jensen's overlapping lives. With both of them going off to college in a week, it was as if Jared feared for everything that could be forgotten when they were no longer together all the time.

And tonight, with sleeping bags, Jensen's dad's lantern, Jared's snacks packed in a cooler, and Jensen's iPod, Jensen had climbed up into the old treehouse, following Jared's steps on the wooden ladder, grateful that the Texas heat had relented enough for the night to be warm and comfortable.

The treehouse smells like dried leaves and time, the way the pages of a book develop a rich scent as the years pass on. No one's played up here for years, so when Jared and Jensen crawled through the squat opening that served as a door, it had been like opening an old book and breathing deep. So many vivid memories brought on by the simplest smells.

"I'm gonna miss this place."

Jensen's used to Jared changing the subject as often as he blinks.

"The treehouse? We haven't been up here in a while."

"Spending nights outside, I mean," Jared sighs, tucking his elbow down along Jensen's chest. They're half cuddling, close together so they could each use an earbud from the iPod, but the playlist has long since stopped. "Here, and then up at the lake."

"Man, remember last summer when we got our parents to let us put the tents up at the shoreline? You and me in one, Mac and Meggie in another?" Jensen's nose itches as he drifts into the memory. Apparently nostalgia is contagious. "That was a good night."

Good because Jensen and Jared had been in the throes of a hormonal hurricane, their new relationship overwhelmed by the need to have their hands on one another constantly. The tent had been Jensen's idea, and it had been a seriously great one until Jared's little sister demanded that she and Mac get a tent of their own.

"Oh god, I remember," Jared laughs, bumping his hips against Jensen's thigh. "The story we told them before they went to sleep, about the monster who crawled around the shore of the lake at night?"

"And the noises it made. How it would open it's mouth..."

"So that you could hear the moans and screams of all the children it had eaten." Jared's chest shakes with mirth at the memory of their cleverly concocted campfire story.

"But what I remember most about that night is sucking you off," Jensen says, and he immediately feels the lingering summer humidity pressing down on his chest. "We were cooped up in that little tent, and I took you into my mouth. So hard, Jay."

Jared reminisces with him, probably picturing the same sequence of moments. "It was the first time you'd gone down on me."

"And you couldn't be quiet," Jensen continues, throat pitching the words in a low tone. "Not that I blamed you. You still can't keep your mouth shut when I—"

"Jen!" Jared cries out as Jensen's lips find the sensitive skin under his jaw, below his ear: a sweet spot that belongs entirely to Jensen. The sharp outburst fades into a moan, long and deep.

Jensen lets up on Jared's throat but hides his grin in Jared's shoulder. "See what I mean?"

"Worked out well for us that night," Jared says. "All the noise that we"—"That _you_ made," Jensen interrupts—"Okay, that I was making. The girls thought it was the lake monster opening it's mouth, ready to eat them. They ran all the way back to the house, screaming!"

"Guess they thought you sounded like someone being devoured by a monster."

Jensen can feel the heat of Jared's blush against his cheek.

"Shut up," Jared says with an audible pout.

"A dick-sucking monster."

Jared defends himself. "I couldn't help it. No one had ever gone down on me like that before."

"Gone down on you?" Jensen snuffles. "This isn't sex-ed, Jay."

Instead of firing back at Jensen's jab, Jared rolls over so that he's facing Jensen, the sleeping bags spread out beneath them—not quite enough padding to negate the feel of the unyielding timber floor. Jensen knows Jared's hard before the first thrust of his hips; they're still teenagers and sometimes all it takes is a few words for Jared to start panting, wanting.

"Say it," Jensen urges, making sure his whisper hits Jared square on the lips. "Tell me exactly how I _went down_ on you that night."

The flush on Jared's cheekbones darkens, and Jensen's got a perfect view of his lips parting around a ragged breath.

"You used your hand first," Jared mutters, words muffled as he tries to turn his face into the nylon of the sleeping bag. Jensen brings him back with an encouraging hand, mouths lining up.

Over a year into this relationship and Jensen still considers every kiss an _experience_ ; there's something to be discovered in each one. Jared takes this kiss from gentle to intense in a few seconds, seducing Jensen's tongue into his mouth with coy little flicks of his own. The kiss is nearly enough to derail Jensen from his purpose, but not for long. He drags his tongue over the roof of Jared's mouth one more time, flicking over his teeth, and pulls back.

"What did I do with my hand?" Jensen asks.

Jared closes his eyes and shudders, hopefully picturing that night by the lake. "Wrapped it around me."

"Around you?" Jensen teases lightly, softly suckling down the strong protrusion of Jared's jawbone.

"Around my cock."

Jensen's dick fills out in the span of a heartbeat, as if the blood rushes in faster than his penis can stretch and lengthen. He's lightheaded for a moment, body turned from interested to desperate thanks to one little word falling shyly from Jared's lips.

One of Jared's bedroom quirks—Jensen would never even _think_ to call it a fault—is his reluctance to describe things in anything but their proper terms. Getting him to say _dick_ outside of a crude joke was a challenge Jensen had taken to like a pro, but he hadn't managed to progress further than rampant blushing and stammering on Jared's part. Fortunately, Jensen found that extremely sexy in its own way.

On the other side of the proverbial mattress, Jensen is only beginning to discover his penchant for dirty talk, loving the way the lewd words roll off his tongue and right into Jared's ears. More so because of the way Jared reacts to what he says, the combination of embarrassment and arousal that's evident in the way his body moves, but even more obvious in his eyes. Sometimes the things he'll say barely make sense in his lust-affected mind, but they sound slick and provocative anyway.

And the few times Jensen's taken it too far—throwing out one too many excerpts from porn scripts—Jared isn't afraid to start laughing and ask when Jensen's next DVD hits shelves.

"So I had your cock in my hand, stroking. You were so thick, Jay, and so hot in my fingers. You were leaking even before I started." Jensen's recap is a little more detailed than Jared's, but that's the point. "What'd I do next?"

Jared groans, trying to escape the question. He's a genius at distraction, pushing between Jensen's calves with his bare foot, creating space for his thigh to wedge between Jensen's. Their shorts are loose on their hips already, jutting hipbones and flat stomachs teased and tickled with the pads of their fingers. Won't take much to shimmy them down farther, cotton friction turned to the soft slide of skin on skin.

"C'mon, Jay. Tell me."

"I was lying there while you kissed down my chest. Kept your hand on me until..."

"Until what?"

When Jared doesn't continue with the memory, Jensen moves his mouth to the exposed skin above Jared's collarbone. The collar of his t-shirt is stretched out, strands of sweaty hair matted to the back of his neck, and Jensen touches them all with his lips until he's kissing pinked skin, the extent of Jared's blush.

"'Til your mouth was on me. On my—Jensen!"

Hands beneath Jared's t-shirt, rucking it up from the waist. Jared clings to Jensen's shoulders, throwing his chin up to give Jensen more room.

"My mouth was wrapped around the head of your dick," Jensen says, running blunt nails down Jared's chest until they meet the stretched elastic of his boxers, pushing farther. "Kissed it all over, remember that?" Jared nods shakily, moaning as Jensen's fingers shape the cotton fabric around Jared's cock head, giving Jared half of a hand-job with only a thin layer remaining between his hand and Jared's erection. "I wanted to taste you for the first time, couldn't wait to get my mouth around you and see how you'd react. Wanted to find out if you'd fuck my throat—take what you wanted—or if you'd struggle to keep your hips still so that I'd be in control." Jensen pauses, palm wrapped around the thickest part of Jared's dick. "And what did you do?"

"I couldn't"—Jared whines, hips finding their own way to thrust against Jensen's grip—"it was so good, Jen."

"What did you do?"

"I fuck—I _fucked your mouth_ ," Jared pants, cock jerking in Jensen's grip. His filter has disintegrated, intoxicating filth spilling through. "I didn't mean to, but your throat was so tight—god! You gagged, but then you came right back, and your mouth was so _fuckin'_ wet."

Something short-circuits between Jensen's ears and his brain. He'd been planning to let Jared fuck his mouth again—working him up to the point where Jared's near mindless. A forceful Jared, drunk on arousal and uninhibited, is a sight Jensen's eager to see again. But Jensen's dick is a steel rod against the inside of his thigh, trapped in tight boxer briefs. He kisses Jared, hard and demanding, rolling Jared onto his back and shifting on top of him.

"What?" Jared's pink mouth blows out the word. "What's wrong?"

"Just need you," Jensen says, raw and vulnerable. Jared smiles, the key to disarming any of Jensen's internal struggles, then pulls Jensen down for a sexy and slow meeting of tongues.

Jared's hair is a mess, fanned out on the sleeping bag. Jensen's fingers comb through the fine strands, cradling the back of Jared's head. He memorizes every detail for the nights when he'll be too far from Jared to have this. He and Jared are a perfect pair; Jensen could fantasize for hours and never come up with a better boyfriend. Despite the differences in their proclivities and inhibitions, they compliment one another sexually, too. It blows Jensen's mind, the things they bring out in each other. Desires that would have stayed buried for a lifetime if they hadn't gotten over their fears and started making out under the bleachers after one of Jensen's baseball games.

They shuffle to get naked from the waist down, limbs kept in check. Bruises and splinters are real mood-killers. Jared spreads his thighs, humming happily as Jensen crawls between them, turning to kiss the inside of Jared's knees.

"Sap," Jared accuses.

"Suave," Jensen counters. "You brought stuff, right?"

Jared nods, running his knuckles over the fine hairs trailing towards Jensen's crotch. "You really wanna have sex up here? Corrupt our childhood memories?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Shoulda known—" Jared's laugh is cut off by Jensen's mouth covering his, final vibration shared between their lips.

Jensen loves prepping his boyfriend. They've only done this a handful of times (practice, practice, practice makes perfect; that's Jensen's motto) but Jensen's learned that Jared likes to be fingered slow and deep, like the most decadent kind of fuck. None of those short, stabbing motions that teased but did shit to actually prep Jared.

With plenty of lube, Jensen works two fingers into Jared's pink, clenching hole, adding more lube until they slide smoothly through the tight ring.

"Good?"

"Oh god, Jen." Jared gasps, biting into his forearm where it's flung across his face. "Good—seriously good."

"Want another one?"

"Gonna need it."

"Damn right," Jensen mutters, silently promising his dick that it'll see action soon enough. "Gotta stretch you good. Nice and slow, Jay. Your ass is gonna be so ready for my dick, so hot and slick."

"Jen—"

"You want that?" Jensen slides his ring finger in next to the others, knuckles rubbing together. Jared's too focused on the prep, the burn of each finger. Jensen sees it in the way his flushed-dark cock is lying still against Jared's abs, hard but waning. "Tell me why you like getting fucked. I wanna hear it."

"Love watching your face," Jared says, his lips darker now from the pressure of his teeth biting into them. "You're gorgeous when you're inside me."

Jensen's not entirely shocked by Jared's sentimentality, but Jensen's heart is full-up on love already. He needs this party to move further south. Using his thumb, he presses into the skin behind Jared's balls: a two-sided assault on Jared's prostate.

"I think you like the way I fit inside you." Jensen buries three fingers up to his large knuckles. "And the way it feels like there's a piece of you missing afterwards, you're so open. You like it when I kiss you, like it's the only thing that keeps you from going crazy. And you love the way I never forget to touch you, because I know what you need."

Forget the way Jensen knocked sentimentality. With Jared, it's inevitable.

"Know how I know all of that?" Jensen asks. It's rhetorical; Jared's too blissed on the promise of _more_ to do more than shake his head. Jensen's quick with the rest of his prep, rubbing a palmful of lube over his cock and nudging the tip against Jared's ass. "Because those are all the things I love about you fucking me."

Jensen might end up pitching more than catching, but he's in no way adverse to taking his turn under Jared. His boyfriend approaches sex the way he does everything else—with gentle humor and patience. When Jared fucks Jensen, it's slow and maddening, long nights of foreplay and a winding road to pleasure. Untempered, Jensen fucks like an action movie: fast and furious, and with a killer explosion at the end.

But it's impossible to think about any of that right now as Jensen drives himself into Jared's body, start-and-stop-and-start as they both adjust to the fact that they're no longer two separate bodies. Jared's spine locks when Jensen's fully seated, limbs shuddering. The slightest move could mean unnecessary pain or an embarrassingly early orgasm for either of them.

"Okay?" Jensen asks once the electric current freezing Jared's body dissipates. He waits to move, though he's desperate to rut into Jared, until Jared exhales and nods.

He hears his name called out once, twice, paying more attention to the tone than the words. Between that and Jared's eyes, Jensen knows if he's thrusting too hard, too soon, backing off for long, careful strokes that tease Jared's prostate with the full length of his cock.

A chorus of cicadas and night bugs surround the treehouse with a low thrum of sound. Jared can be as loud as he wants tonight; no one will hear the frantic _slap-slap_ of their bodies coming together or Jared gasps when Jensen's lips aren't there to catch them. Jared wraps his lean, summer-honeyed arms and legs around Jensen, holding him close and down-shifting the rhythm.

"Gonna let me stroke you?" Jensen's offer is whispered across Jared's cheek. Jared is nearly all the way hard again, every pile-drive of Jensen's cock to his prostate making it jump between their stomachs. "I'll make it nice and tight, Jay, like you're fucking me at the same time I'm fucking you."

Jensen can't decipher an answer in the kiss Jared gives him—tongues wild and messy, spit on their lips. But it becomes obvious when Jared grabs Jensen's right hand and pushes it down to his dick, little streaks of sweat and precome criss-crossing his skin where his t-shirt has ridden up. Good as his word, Jensen wraps Jared's cock in a tight fist, thumb stroking over the flared tip and twisting up each time he thrusts his own cock into Jared.

"Jen—faster," Jared begs, orgasm racing forward now that he's in Jensen's hand, sensations from his dick and ass combining. "I can take it, c'mon."

"I know you can," Jensen says, no thought to refuse. "So fuckin' perfect. There's no one like you, Jay, and you're all mine."

The cry that comes out of Jared's mouth is louder than anything Jensen's heard tonight, sharp sound drowning out the cicadas for a few seconds. It precedes the first burst of come from Jared's cock, sticky strings falling over Jensen's fingers, and if Jensen weren't half-mad striving for his own orgasm, he'd stop to taste Jared off his skin.

Focused on Jared's eyes and the way his breath fans over Jensen's face, Jensen gives up control of his rhythm and starts thrusting, body taking what it needs. Jared's body is loose and spent, but he doesn't abandon Jensen, whispering soft, dirty things that would embarrass him in any other moment. Now, they cause a wave within Jensen, swelling his cock until he comes, shaking through his orgasm. His arms give out but Jared's ready to catch him, easing them both onto their sides.

Jensen blinks and Jared's face is there, grin and dimples highlighted by the lantern's yellow glow. He sees Jared wince when he pulls out, but the discomfort disappears quickly, leaving them both droopy-eyed and yawning, happy. The sight of Jared completely flushed and sated, green eyes turned bronze by the artificial light, and the tingling ebb of a mind-blowing orgasm are two things Jensen will never be able to get enough of.

And that thought is annoyingly sobering.

"We seriously need to suck up to your parents," he grumbles.

"Ugh." Jared clearly disapproves of Jensen's topic-hopping. "Why?"

"'Cause there's no way I'll be able to live without _that_ "—Jensen's gestures are supposed to convey the super-scorching sex they just had—"for more than a week. You need to have your car."

"Or I could leave you to suffer."

"You'd do that to me?"

"God, no. I wouldn't do that to _me_ ," Jared insists, laughing. "I'm a big fan of the sex, too." He fiddles with the fabric of Jensen's t-shirt, tugged loose and misshapen at this point. "Remember when your family spent two weeks in Florida over Christmas?"

Jensen scowls in the wake of Jared's grin. "And all of our failed attempts at phone sex? Yeah, not a good memory."

"I don't know," Jared muses, sneaking closer to kiss Jensen's ear, soft little nips that he soothes with his tongue. "I think we learned a few valuable lessons, you know, for when we can't be together in the near future."

"Yeah? Tell me about it."

Looks like Jensen'll be squeezing a little more nostalgia out of tonight after all.

 

FIN.


End file.
